


Queen of Ice

by Marcus_Crassus



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Disturbing shit, Eldritch Abomination, F/M, yeah this is a little freaky go with it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-11-28 21:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11426880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marcus_Crassus/pseuds/Marcus_Crassus
Summary: This is an idea that I've had rattling around in my head, and I just kind of need to get it out.So please pardon me if this one is odd/weird/triggering/doesn't make sense.Basically, I'm smooshing together book and TV... Sansa and Theon escape Winterfell, and flee north.  Since Theon knows a few things about the sea, they attempt to find a ship, and sail to Eastwatch (yeah, gloss over the fact that Winterfell is far from the ocean. Its needed to make this work).But a storm hits, and they wreck north of the Wall... and poor Sansa is afraid of wildlings... that sweet summer child.Because there is a reason that we've never seen a female in the direct Stark line north of the wall... a reason that the Starks forgot over the hundreds of years since the Long Night.





	1. The beginning of the end

    The ship was a lost cause, most of the sailors were either dead or dying, and the few that survived had run off, desperate to make it south.  This was the haunted forest, and Sansa knew they needed to be careful.  Wildlings were everywhere, and she had heard all the stories.  She glanced over at Theon.  He wasn't much, but he was the only person who she could trust until she got to the Wall, and Jon.

                It had seemed like such a good idea.  Flee to the coast, follow the river, and sail north to the Wall and safety.  But the storms caught them, and they were marooned on this ice-choked shore.  Luckily, they managed to stay more or less dry, and had reasonably warm clothes.

                "Sansa... we need to get moving. Its many miles to the south to the Wall, and the wildlings will be here soon" Theon was attempting to wield a sword in his maimed hands, but it was heartbreaking to see how badly he was hurt. "Take this... at least you might be able to defend yourself a little with it. " He handed her a long dagger and a belt, which she fastened around her waist, under her cloak.

                "Thank you, Theon. For everything. Its not your fault, this was a good plan, originally."  Sansa smiled at him, before putting the hood of her cloak up, and setting off, her long legs eating up the ground before realizing that Theon couldn't keep up with his mutilated feet... 'This is going to take forever, but I can't abandon him after he saved me from Ramsay' she thought to herself as they slowly moved into the haunted forest...

\-------------------

                He smelled her, for lack of a better word, from the moment she touched a foot on his frozen shore.  A Stark. A female Stark.  His enemies had forgotten much in the thousands of years... a female Stark.  The key to the accursed barrier that protected the warm, soft lands to the south.

                His eyes rolled back briefly, as his thralls rose from their places in the snow, to march on the Stark... to bring her before him.  There was a man too, but he was nothing to him, just another soon to be thrall.

                A cruel almost-smile broke across his pale face as he swiftly strode to a nearby cave.. the perfect place for the ritual to come.

\---------------

                The wind was howling, and the snow was coming down so much that it was hard to see.  Both of them were staggering under the relentless assault.   Sansa stumbled, falling down to come to rest with her back to a tree, half out of the wind.  "Theon.  We have to stop for a moment. I need to rest..." she managed to get out from between chattering lips."

                He fell a little, crawling next to her.  "We can't stop here, we'll die.  I'll... I'll go on ahead, and try to find a better shelter... stay here." He managed to get himself upright, before staggering off into the driving snow, disappearing rapidly from Sansa's sight.

                She wrapped her cloak around her tighter, shielding herself from the bitter cold and the howling wind... for a moment she thought she heard a scream, but it was hard to tell with the wind.  Suddenly, as if they were at the eye of a hurricane, the wind dropped off, the snow swirling around much less thickly... revealing a ring of creatures.  Blue eyed, and black handed (when they still had flesh).  Sansa's scream stuck in her throat as she shook in terror.  Wights.  All of Old Nan's stories flooded back. The Others, the white walkers... everything that could terrify a girl that had experienced so much cruelty already.  They started their slow shuffle towards her as she looked around in a panic... one wight's staggering shuffle drawing her eye, and she screamed, the full terror sinking in.  It was Theon. Or his body.  Still bleeding from the wound in his chest that felled him, his eyes burning blue, and his face utterly blank.

                Sansa managed to choke off her scream, drawing her dagger as the first wight arrived, laying about, trying to fight off their relentless grasping... she sunk the dagger into the chest of a wight that wore the black of the Night's Watch, but quailed as it didn't even slow him down, and in fact was caught in his chest, rendering her completely unarmed.

                She screamed as their hands closed around her, wondering how much it would hurt when they snuffed her out... when she realized they were simply lifting her up, and carrying her off... a small knot of undead creatures holding her aloft as they shuffled along, their cold grip making it impossible to break free.

\---------------

                She was being brought to him, he could hear her struggles as the thralls carried her into his cave, the harsh, cold blue flames illuminating the spare chamber.  A spacious section of cave, with a rough stone altar roughly the length of a person.

                The thralls had arrived, the Stark female in their grasp... depositing her, before forming a barrier of flesh and bone at the only exit.  The female looked up at him in horror, her light blue eyes wide.  "No... please gods, no. You can't be real, you're supposed to be just scary stories.." She was babbling, almost incoherently, as he spoke for the first time in hundreds of years.

                "S... such a prize." he rasped out, his voice rough from disuse, walking slowly towards where she was sprawled on her knees.  "Do you know what you are to me, Stark?"

                She blanched at her name, realizing that her survival was no accident.  "I... why am I still alive?" she quietly asked, eyes wide with terror.

                "You're a key.  The key.  Your family must have forgotten the long ago.  Your ancestors would be horrified to know a female of their direct bloodline was here.  In my grasp.  You're the key to breaking the accursed barrier." His voice was like grating glass, or grinding ice, barely intelligible to Sansa.

                "The barrier?  You mean the Wall?" She managed to get control of her fear.  "I'll never help you break the Wall, no matter what you do!"

                "Yes, little warm thing. You will.  Once you're one of us... once you're my new consort, you'll do whatever we need." His face split into an inhuman rictus, long and unblinking, taking a few steps towards her.  "Nothing can make you become one of us... you must let it happen. And you will."

                Sansa shook her head in defiance, still not understanding what he meant.  "I'm Sansa Stark of Winterfell, my ancestors defeated you, and I will never help you!" She manages to summon up all of her noble haughtiness, before he took another step towards her, pushing her backwards onto the stone altar.  She attempted to rise back up, but two wights moved in to hold her down as their master ran his rough, freezing hands over her clothes.

                "I'm going to take you.  And every bit of pleasure it gives you, no matter how unwanted, it'll make you more and more like us, until you spend... and then you will be my perfect, immortal queen.  Time will no longer touch you, and age will no longer be you enemy." He ran a sharp-taloned finger down the laces of her dress, snapping them one by one, loosening it around her slender body.

                Sansa started to weep, overwhelmed... "I escaped Joffery, endured Ramsay... only to have *this* happen... the gods must hate me..." She turned her head away as her dress parts under his finger... the undertunic still protecting her from his unholy gaze.


	2. Sansa's Rebirth

                He did not even deign to answer her pleas, but simply ripped her undertunic, exposing her teats, hardening under the freezing temperatures, the brushes of his fingers ice-cold to her flesh.  She tried to twist away, but the wights held her in their iron grip. 

                She screamed in pain as his frozen hands groped her roughly, pulling her dress at the seams almost effortlessly...  pulling downwards until the bright red of her cunny was exposed to his unholy gaze.  Sansa was reduced to almost mindless whimpering as he slowly and deliberately exposed his cock to her, looking as hard as ice... and as cold.  She wasn't wet at all when he started to take her, roughly shoving himself into her, showing no heed to her pleas for mercy.  It was like being stabbed by a icicle, burning its way into her cunny.  She only was able to turn her head, closing her eyes so she didn't have to meet this creatures burning gaze... trying to take herself away to some other place where this wasn't happening... that a creature from her darkest nightmares wasn't ravaging her.  She set her jaw, trying not to think about how her traitorous body was responding to him moving in her... the cold not quite so burning.  It was as humiliating as when Ramsay would hurt her every night, and how disgusted with herself she would be after her body would respond at all to his... attentions.

                His blood had not come alive for centuries... but he could feel it starting to move in his frozen body, sluggishly moving as he drained away her life.. slowly, slowly... her face was getting even more pale as he took her, feeling her unwilling cunny getting wetter.  She would be his... perfect and eternal.

                A clawed hand descended on her exposed teat, roughly manhandling it.  She bit her lip, not wanting to respond at all, when she had a sickening realization.  It didn't burn... his 'frozen' claw was cold, but not the same burning cold as before.  Sansa tried to process this, watching a faint cloud of her breath as she panted every time her rapist struck home.  "Its... its getting warmer?" she said softly, not understanding.

                "No, Stark.  Its not warming.  You are cooling. You're becoming more perfect..." He rasped out in his grating voice, his burning eyes still fixed on hers.

                Sansa screamed, twisting her head away to break his gaze, terrified and angry... a sick sensation rising in her chest... he was turning her.  And he wanted her.  Even Ramsay didn't really want her, he just liked to hear her scream.  This... thing wanted her for himself, to be at his side...  "NO!" She yelled out, not quite giving in yet, still struggling ineffectually at the corpses holding her down.

                He almost *smiled* at her spirit, his unholy member getting a surge of energy, slamming into her harder, grinding into her deeply.. deeper than she had experience before...  but that unholy almost-smile... it was inhuman.  And his promises whispered in her ears.. that she would be beautiful, perfect, and have no fear... Sansa raised her head to meet his gaze, not noticing that her breath no longer drew a warm cloud... that his cock no longer felt cold inside of her.  There was just the *feeling*, more full and real than anything she had felt before.

                He threw his head back in triumph, both clawed hands going to her hips, pulling her in closer, his thralls slackening their grip so he could take her faster, and harder... relishing her screams turning to moans.  She was almost his... almost one of them...

                "Speeend, Stark.  Spend for me, and receive the glory you deserve!" His voice rang out like crackling ice, seemingly shaking the very cavern..

                Sansa looked up at him, her light blue eyes meeting his electric-blue gaze, her mouth opening up in a wordless moan... the tiniest part of her humanity clinging on... but it was too much.  The feeling, his unholy presence... her mouth opened up in wordless appeal, when she climaxed, her cunny squeezing down on him, her back arching and her head snapping back back.  He spent himself, his seed jetting into her, draining all of her human color, leaving her perfectly pale white... the only color left was her crimson hair... her now blood-red lips.

                Her tongue slowly ran over those lips as the thralls released her, her lord releasing her hips and withdrawing.  She took several deep breaths before opening her eyes for the first time... the electric blue glow meeting his own burning orbs.  "It. Is. Done" he rasped out, his unholy visage meeting hers, an inhumanly wide smile forming over Sansa's lips...

                "It is... *done*, my lord." She slowly rose off the altar, stretching her long limbs, reveling in how the cold felt on her skin amid her half-nakedness  "What is your command, my lord?" She stood before the enemy of all life as she had known it, and knelt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super thrilled with the smut portions of this. I find noncon rather hard to write, but I hope its not a complete shitshow.
> 
> I'm trying to decide on the next chapter... the choices ahead of me is this: Her target is going to be Jon... to turn him, to make him one of them.
> 
> Do I let that happen? If so, are they going to be perfect extensions of the Night's King, or are they going to have their own agenda? How much of them is left when that happens?
> 
> OR: Does he almost give in, resist, and of course, promptly get assassinated by Bowen Marsh et al? (I figure its the only way that Sansa would escape/continue if he resists and figures out what they've done to his sister).
> 
> Feel free to discuss this in the comments, I'm honestly not sure. The potential angst of Arya showing up to fight in the War of the Dawn, with a dragonsteel blade, and having to use it on what used to be her favorite brother is appealing, but I'm not sure.


	3. Chapter 3

Jon had heard the blast, rangers returning. From high atop the wall, he could see the four man party riding on their garrons... but there was another figure riding with the leader. A figure that through the Myrish eye, he could see had red hair. Hope surged in his breast, before he clamped down on it. Even if it was his sister Sansa, she was a Bolton now... a family that could end the Watch in a single night if they so choose. He called out orders to have the gate opened, and the patrol readmitted, before descending in the cage.  
  
She could feel it pushing against her. It wasn't just ice, the barrier. It was woven with things, old things. Things that they never should have forgotten, but it couldn't push her away. It took courage to go through the gate, the weight of ice and spells almost making her flee. It was the hardest part, to keep the act up of the poor half frozen highborn girl. The patrol had found her a half day from the wall, her clothes half ragged, calling out for them to take her to Jon Snow. She tried not to press too closely to the lead ranger.. it wouldn't do for him to realize that she wasn't half frozen at all... it was taking serious concentration to make sure she didn't let her eyes glow, and give up the game here.  
  
The tunnel opened up into the yard of Castle Black, just in time for her to see Jon Snow descending the stairs from the winch cage, his eyes seeking her out. She carefully dismounted, making sure to seem appropriately weak and relieved to be 'safe'. "J... jon?" she stammered out as he approached, his eyes going wide with relief as he came up and hugged her tightly... the tiniest part of what Sansa was now feeling sorry for how he was being deceived. They embraced for a long moment, before he released her.  
  
"Sansa, you're freezing. Satin, have the stewards draw a bath for Lady Sansa. Have her taken up to Val in the tower. Sansa... I'm going to put you in with somebody I trust.. she'll be able to keep you safe." He smiled at her, reassuringly, before letting one of his men guide her into one of the tower, making sure to totter convincingly as they made their way up several flights of steps. The guard spoke briefly in hushed tones with a blonde woman dressed in fur and leather, before leaving them together. The bath was already drawn, steaming... Sansa tried not to show revulsion for so much *warmth*... but if things went well, it wouldn't be nearly as frightful.  
  
Sansa hid her face from the blonde woman, who spoke to her in a rather... familiar tone. "You're the lord crow's sister? They call me Val, and apparently the chief crow doesn't trust his own men around you, so I'm here to keep you safe." Sansa couldn't miss the slightly sardonic tone in her voice.  
  
Val walked closer to the shivering form of Sansa, arm going out to try to comfort her, when Sansa moved... almost too fast to even register, one hand snapping around Val's wrist, the other around her neck, squeezing... Val's scream died in her throat as the cold-iron feeling of her hand clamped around her windpipe.. "No... you're... *them*" she gasped out, her breath coming thin and reedy...  
  
"Us. And thanks to *you*, Jon will be one of *us* soon enough." Sansa pulled Val to her, a cruel, inhuman smile forming on her face as they came close... eyes inches from each other as Sansa's eyes erupted in her 'natural' electric glow... leaning forward to capture Val's lips with hers, her teeth coming down on Val's lower lip, biting hard and tasting the coppery blood.  
  
Sansa pulled her face back, her eyes closing as she relishes the taste of the blonde woman's lifeblood. "Yummy. You'll do *perfectly*" she cooed, before kissing Val again, sucking up her blood and lifeforce, draining her dry... feeling her heart start to beat again.. the color returning to her skin... and her flesh warming as Val's cools. Sansa inhaled deeply, having almost forgotten what it felt like to take air in, casually letting Val's now withered body fall to the ground, bonelessly limp.  
Sansa slowly licked her lips clean, half-purring as she undid the fastenings of her clothes, letting it fall away, regarding the steaming bath with much less trepidation as before. She soaked herself, the memories of who she used to be welling up, remembering how she would stay in her bath until she was wrinkled and the water grew cold. But Jon was waiting... and her king was waiting for her mission to be complete.  
  
She dried herself off carefully, going through some of Val's things in the wardrobe, finding a woolen dress that managed to be both demure, and snug enough to draw attention to her body. A quick look in the glass confirmed it... she looked the picture of innocence.. the perfect lure for a chivalrous defender like Jon. A slight sneer at Val's broken form... it wouldn't do for anybody to see that. With a few grunts, Sansa managed to pull her up and put her in her bed with her back to the door. By the time anybody noticed, it would be too late. Too late for Jon.. the Nights Watch, and every warm thing that lived in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit short for this one, but I wanted to get this update out. Working on the meat of the Jon/Sansa scene, but I'm not happy with it yet.

**Author's Note:**

> So I've written past this, but I figured the dirty parts can wait until I've got that scene complete. Just a taste, friends. 
> 
> Any commentary will be read, but I ask that you try to be constructive, I'm aware this one has some really fucked up, dark themes brewing.


End file.
